Casey's Twin
by Glaivester
Summary: STORY COMPLETE! Confessed rapist Amelia Chase is Casey Novak's longlost twin sister. The lives of characters from different episodes cross in unexpected ways.
1. Casey's Dilemma

**Summary:** Casey confronts a family problem. No ships. Histories not necessarily the same as in my fanfic "Ridiculous." Spoilers for episode 3.11 "Ridicule."

**Chapter 1**

Disclaimer: All characters owned by Dick Wolf and NBC. No money was made by me on this work.

Olivia had just explained the basics of the case to Casey. The latter was feeling the bridge of her nose and nodding slowly.

"Okay, I got it. I'll make the motion, and then I'm off for the day."

She paused a second. "Olivia, can I talk to you for a few minutes after work? At the bar where we all hang out. I need your perspective on something."

"Sure."

As Olivia walked out of the office, she noticed two cops quickly shutting up and one of them putting a piece of paper in his pocket. Oh, good. It was the Elliot/Olivia pool. Some idiots had got it in their heads that because she and Stabler worked together, they must have the hots for each other. Since she saw Elliot almost as a brother, this was really creepy. She would have said something about it, and complained about the sexism, but then she heard about the Fin/Munch betting pool, and the now discontinued Alex/Olivia betting pool, and decided that talking about such pools would probably lead to learning something about such pools, a thought which filled her with much dread.

Soon afterwards, she met Casey at the bar.

"So, what is it you wanted to talk to me about, Case?"

"Olivia. Your mother was raped, wasn't she? That's where you came from?"

"Thank you for being so subtle and diplomatic. That's what I love about you."

"Okay," said Casey, putting her hands up in surrender. "That was a little abrupt, I know. But I wanted to ask you how you live with it."

"With what? With being a child of rape? With feeling that I owe my existence to something that I am fighting to prevent?"

"No, with the fact that _he_ is part of you."

Olivia started. "What… what do you mean?"

"I checked around. There was a case a few years back with a rapist whose father was a rapist. You were somewhat worried, according to your friends. Apparently, the boy used a genetic defense, and you wondered if you had a genetic predisposition to violence as well?"

"Yes. So?"

"Do you ever worry. Do you ever wonder if you have it in you to… to rape someone?"

"Yes, I suppose. Although I am usually more worried that I would hurt someone in… well, through more non-sexual violence. You know, beat them up."

"Being female must be a bit of a relief for you. Given the stats, it's likely that even if you had inherited some 'rapist' gene, it would be, well, dormant in you, because, you know, you're a girl."

"Well, perhaps."

"Well, let's just say that if your mother had been the one to attack your father, you'd have a lot more to worry about, in terms of your own predispositions."

"Listen, Casey, that's not funny. What the hell is this about?"

"Olivia, I was adopted. I didn't know my birth parents. But I recently found out that I have a sister."

"How?"

"Well, my sister and I were put up for adoption at the same time. We were mistakenly separated and the paperwork indicating our relationship was lost. It was found again recently, and after checking both of us for consent, it was released to each other."

"So?"

"My sister is a rapist. And, a murderer."

"Oh."

"It gets worse. Most sisters share 50 of their DNA, 25 for half-sisters. We shared more than that."

"I don't understand."

"We're identical twins."

"Who's your sister, if I don't mind you asking?"

"Hell, your squad arrested her, you should know. Don't I _remind you_ of anybody?"

"Oh, Hell, no…"

It was back in 2001. A woman had been found hanging from a ceiling fan in her apartment. At first it was ruled death by autoerotic asphyxiation. She was being kinky and had an accident. Turned out she was a pain-killer addict who had wound up raping a male striped with two of her friends. The case had helped to propel Alexandra Cabot to fame, and had set precedents. It also turned out that she had actually been killed by her two so-called friends when it seemed that she might rat them out.

The two friends were real pieces of work. One of them was a misandrist day-trader who, the other was a cold, ruthless defense attorney who seemed to think that everyone else in the world existed for her benefit. The day-trader was into asphyxiation, and she was the one with the idea to hang her friend and make it look like an accident. She had pled guilty to rape and murder. The attorney had gotten of on the rape charge, but later pled to the murder charge and was serving a 25-year sentence.

The day-trader, now that Olivia thought about it, was the spitting image of Ms. Novak.

"Oh my God. You're Amelia Chase's sister!"

"Yup. You have half of the genes of a rapist, Olivia. I have all of them. And, her being female, I don't have the comfort of saying 'well, those genes only work on males,' now, do I?"

"Recently."

"What?" asked Casey.

"You said you learned recently that Amelia Chase was your sister. How recently?"

"This morning. The results were emailed to me."

"Oh, my."

"There's more."

"What?"

"I'm visiting her in prison tomorrow."

"Why?"

"To see how much we are alike. Am I just her in different circumstances? Why did she become what she is? Why didn't I?" Casey thought a moment. "May I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"How did Ms. Chase strike you? I mean, you did meet her, didn't you?"

"Not really. Munch and Fin dealt with the investigation and arrest. Cabot did most of the talking. I only saw her once or twice. Didn't speak to her a great deal."

"Any thoughts from that?"

"Well, she definitely hates men. I got the impression that she enjoyed the idea of victimizing men. Ms. Adler, on the other hand, just seems arrogant. I think she just wanted sex, and decided that she could get away with forcing herself on the victim, so she went for it. Ms. Chase - she _wanted_ to rape him."

"Oh, joy." Casey was beginning to wonder if this was a good idea.


	2. Amelia's Therapy

**Chapter 2**

Disclaimer: All characters owned by Dick Wolf and NBC. No money was made by me on this work.

A/N For those who are unaware of this fact, this story was inspired by the fact that Diane Neal, who plays Casey Novak, played a female rapist with a fetish for asphyxiating herself in the episode "Ridicule" (episode 3.11). The talk about people betting on Olivia and Elliot getting together in the previous section is meant as a satire of all of the fanfic where Elliot and Olivia fall in love

"Oh, joy."

Amelia Chase was receiving one-on-one psychiatric counseling. She was beginning to feel as if she were some lab organism, being poked and prodded for research. Psychiatrists were lining up around the block to interview her and write papers on her.

No one had really known where to put her for therapy while in jail. There were several programs out for sex offenders, but almost all of them were designed for, and entirely populated by, males. The few female sex offenders in such programs were either some form of pedophile or ephebophile (A/N ephebophile - one who, as an adult, is attracted to adolescents), or for more innocuous offenses such as exhibitionism. She was the only woman currently in a New York prison for non-statutory rape. Not that she was the only female rapist; Pamela Adler was doing time too, but she had dodged a conviction on that charge and was only serving on the murder charge.

Amelia had tried group therapy with other women, but had been thrown out because she tended to frighten them.

"Good day, Ms. Chase. How are you feeling today?"

She had also been put in one of the groups that was otherwise male. It turned out badly when the men objected to her being there and she had politely suggested that they tie up one of them and leave him alone in the room with her.

"Not good. No better than can be expected."

"So I heard that you found out that you have a sister."

"Yes. I'm seeing her today. She's my twin, apparently."

"Identical or fraternal?"

"Monozygotic."

"Hmmm?"

Amelia sighed. "Identical. Monozygotic means we came from the same zygote." She was certain that the psychiatrist knew what "monozygotic" meant. He _was_ a doctor. But he was playing with her, or not paying attention to her, or something.

"Really? What does she do?"

"She prosecutes... people like me, actually. Her predecessor was the one who made all this-" she flourished with her left hand, "-possible."

"Ah, yes, ADA Casey Novak."

"Okay, let's stop playing games. What is it we _have to_ discuss today?"

"What do you feel about your sister? She's... very similar to you, so how do you feel about her turning out so differently?"

"Well, I wonder if she had a foster father who raped her repeatedly. And who liked to strangle her. Messed up her entire view of sex, and for that matter, skewed her idea of men permanently."

"Well, admitting you have a problem..."

"...Means nothing. I know who I am, and why I am who I am. I don't need you to tell me, and believe me, self-awareness does not somehow fill me with a desire to be normal. I suppose you think that I am like that teen girl I heard about, the one who molested her sister. I think that everyone is like me, and refuse to get it into my head that there are un-cynical, un-jaded people out there. Well, I don't delude myself that way. I'm certain that there are a lot of wonderful, lovely people out there who do good without ulterior motives. I just happen to think that they are idiots. And women are especially idiots. We menstruate, we give birth, we have all of these extra issues men never have to deal with, and yet we're still supposed to put up with them and their crap. To top it off, they rape us, oppress us, essentially run the world, and expect us to love them for it.

"Perhaps they don't understand and think that they are nice guys and on some level they are. But they still aren't us, they don't understand us, and they don't suffer the way we do. Worse, they keep us down and use their privilege, whether they understand it or not, to make certain that we stay in our place. People talk about how rape empowers men and is a tool of male oppression, and I happen to agree with them. It's a collective act of oppression against my entire gender. So why can't I fight back in kind? Hell, it's not my fault that I have a high sex drive and a disgust for the only people whom I can exercise it on. What's a very heterosexual misandrist like myself going to do? Give a man the satisfaction of knowing I _need_ him? Why, when I can simply take what I want and do to him what they've all been doing to _us_ for so long?

"I suppose I should wish I were like my sister, growing up in a nice home,"

"Oh, so you've talked to her?"

"No, but I can assume. A person who is a goody-goody prosecutor almost certainly was brought up in a good home."

"Isn't that..."

"Well, assume she was. I don't wish I was her. Why should I? It just means she's stupider. I at least know that the world is out to get me and my sex."

"Must make you a lot less happy to see things that way."

"At least it gives me some power over my surroundings. I can know the truth when everyone else lies."

"So your philosophy is?"

"My philosophy is that women have to look out for their own interests and beat back the privileged male whenever they can. Sex is a weapon. Woman should have sex when they feel like it, not when the men feel like it."

"Many people agree with the idea that the woman should determine whether or not she wants to have sex with someone."

"No, no, they don't. They think that women should be allowed to determine that she doesn't want sex. I think it should be the woman's choice that she _does_."

"Isn't that the way it is?"

"Not if the man doesn't agree that he wants it, too."

"Ah, so you believe that men-"

"Have a duty to leave us alone when we want and to put out when we want."

"Why are you telling me this? Surely it won't help you to get out if you essentially announce that you don't have a problem with what you did... and, it seems to me, would have no qualms about doing it again."

"My sentence doesn't run out any time soon. I have plenty of time to reform my philosophy for the release hearing." Amelia tapped the table. "In the meantime, I'm in prison, I'm no going anywhere for a _loooooonnnnng_ time. I might as well tell it as it is."

And so on, for the entire hour. Once again, Dr. Laszlo had to write down that the therapy did not seem to be making any progress of any sort.

A/N Next, the meeting between Casey and Amelia!


	3. The Meeting

**Chapter 3**

Disclaimer: All characters owned by Dick Wolf and NBC. No money was made by me on this work.

A/N: If you like this, try my fanfic "Ridiculous" just click on my name and then find it in my story list. "Ridiculous" has a few differences in backstory, e.g. Amelia was not adopted, but is also about "Ridicule".

Casey looked across the glass. It was like a mirror, except that the person on the other side wore prisoner uniform, while she wore a formal jacket, skirt, and tie.

"So," asked Amelia. "Are you surprised that the test came back positive?"

"I don't know. Finding you was quite a shock."

A Few Years Back-------

Casey Novak into the room to talk with the witness.

"Okay, listen, they said you looked like me, but I'm sure... oh my God."

On the other side of the table was her mirror image. She had on formal business wear, and for a scarf that was tightly tied around her neck. "You do resemble me, don't you? They told me, too. But I think I'm a little thinner."

"Okay, listen, we need to get your testimony down correctly. When did you first suspect Mr. Leland of embezzling from the company."

"In November. I had come in after hours to discuss strategy for currency trading with Klaus, and I saw Kyle at the computer. He immediately turned it off, and I began to think that he was hiding something."

The Present-------

"So," said Amelia. "It's been a long time since we first met. What made you finally decide to find out?"

"I guess, I... I guess that when I found out that you had pled guilty to rape, I... I just was weirded out. And then, when they transferred me from white-collar crime to sex crimes, the irony just pushed me to confront it. And then, the final straw was a case dealing with identical twin teenagers, one of whom had been given a gender-reassignment surgery at birth. They - they were so alike, even despite the sex-change. So I decided I had to find out. So, I have a sister who is the only woman currently serving time in New York for non-statutory rape."

Amelia scowled. "Yes, I'm the one who first pled guilty, the one who fingered the other rapist for the police, and yet _I_ am the one who gets the longer sentence. Stupid jurors wouldn't convict her. So she only has to plead out to the murder charge, and gets 20 years. I get at least 22.5. If there is reincarnation, next time I'll come back as a lawyer. Then I'll get a better deal."

"Well," said Casey, "listen, I'm not here to discuss Pam Adler. I want to know - I came to you to know why."

"Well, you'll listen if I want to talk about that bitch! I was the one who helped her out of it! The one who came up with the plan of how to get rid of Sydney. And yet, now she's angry at me, because I confessed."

Casey sighed. "Why did you do it? Why did you decide to force yourself on a male stripper? What the Hell were you thinking?"

"I was horny. I was frustrated at Sydney's stupidity. I thought she was a friend. She understood me, understood why I knew how treacherous men can be. And yet, she still wanted to be used - used by a starving artist who was obviously digging for gold. I thought the stripper was hot. I decided to show Syd that she could do better. You don't need to marry some loser to get laid. I talked to Pam, and she said she would arrange something with the stripper. She came back, and said that he had said no. I told her to just get him alone in a room after he did his show, and we would change his mind. Considering that she was the first to attack him, I guess she understood what I was getting at. Syd was stoned, so I figured we could get her to go along easily. She was always very suggestible when you filled her with drugs."

"I still don't understand why you did it."

"The men need to learn that we won't take it anymore. We won't let them control us. All my life, men have told me what I can and can't do. My foster father raped me, the boys at school picked on me, my professors hit on me. The people at the trading firm were always condescending toward me. And the worst part is, I... I _need_ them!" She was starting to cry.

Casey pulled back a little. "You mean they had power over you? You needed their approval to get ahead?"

"No, no. I... I _needed_ them! I... I... I need to..." she made a rather explicit gesture with her hands.

"Ah, I..." Casey's brow furrowed.

"How can I deal with the fact that I need them and loathe them at the same time? I decided not to let them have any control over me. So I take what I need and take out my rage at the same time. That's what I did to Mr. Smith. The gold-digger Mr. Green, everyone who's ever wronged me, Syd for being so stupid. I took it all out on Mr. Smith. From what I hear of him, he probably deserved it anyway."

Now Casey scowled. "This isn't the first time you've done this, is it?"

"Well, the statute of limitations ran out since I was in college, so if you'd like, I could describe some of my exploits there in vivid detail."

"I'd rather not hear it."

Amelia smiled smugly, "Well, let's just say that I managed to speak at a few Take Back the Night marches. You know, about my foster father. Usually I managed to find a man who pretended to be sensitive in the audience and let him take me for a drink afterwards. What usually happened next was... ironic.

"But really, Miss Novak. What is it that you want from me? Why do you care why I am how I am?"

"We're twins, Miss Chase. Do the math."

"Oh, have you ever attacked someone? You want me to excuse you? You had to, it's your genes?"

"_No._"

"Oh, I see. You want to why you _didn't_ turn into me. Or you're worried you will be like me. You want proof that somehow I was made the way I am, not born that way. You want to have some reason to convince yourself that you could never rape someone. Well, you'll have to puzzle that one out on your own."

"I'm done," said Casey to the guard. "Please let me out."

As she left, Amelia smiled to herself. _So she thinks she's so hot. Well I've just riled her up a little. Good._


	4. Aftermath

**Chapter 4**

Disclaimer: All characters owned by Dick Wolf and NBC, excepting original characters, but I don't care to own them. No money was made by me on this work.

"So," Olivia asked Casey, "how did it go?"

It was the next morning. Olivia had been eagerly anticipated Casey's visit to the station that morning. Truth to tell, she was fascinated because of what it portended for her. If Casey shared 100 of her genes with a rapist, then she could feel better about only sharing 50 of hers with one.

Casey had come to the station on the case of a sorority member who had reported being raped by three drunk guys at a party held jointly by the sorority and its associated fraternity. Shortly after getting through talking to the witnesses, Casey came out of the questioning room.

"So, how'd it go?" asked Olivia.

"Well, he says that he saw two of the suspects and a third man he can't identify raping that sorority girl. I think that we can get the two he fingered to give up the third guy on a plea."

"No, no, not the case. Your meeting yesterday."

"Er... well, I didn't exactly enjoy the experience. Amelia Chase is not a very warm person."

"So what did you find out?"

"Well, she had been abused. She wasn't specific as to dates, so I checked the records. From age 9 through 13, she had been the foster child of a man who was later convicted of child molestation. Apparently he liked to strangle his victims when he raped them. I suppose that is where she gets her fixation." Casey gulped and put her right hand on her throat.

"So why does she do it?"

"Revenge. She likes sex, but hates men, so she finds the simplest way to, well, get off without losing any power is to take it."

"She's done it before?"

"Yes. But she didn't admit to anything that is recent enough to prosecute."

"Casey?"

"What?"

"Do you - do you ever feel like you would - you know, attack someone?"

"No. I don't think her propensities were - inborn. So, no, Olivia, I don't think you inherited a rapist gene, if that's why you're asking."

"Maybe not."

"Why?"

"Sometimes. Sometimes I have wanted to get violent with people - I don't think I ever thought in terms of raping someone, but - I've wanted to harm people - and I'm not talking about shooting perps - I've had boyfriends who've wronged me, and whom I later fantasized about killing. I... I sometimes think I..."

"Benson, you're a good person and a good cop. We all want to hurt people who've hurt us. Relax. You're not like your father - and I'm not like my sister."

Olivia nodded. "So, what was it like finally meeting her."

"I met her before this. When I was in white-collar crimes. She testified against Kyle Leland for embezzlement."

A Few Years Back-------

"Well, that went well." Casey walked out of the courtroom with Ms. Chase.

"Yes. That snotty bastard will finally get what's coming to him. I'm never happier than when I can get even with some pig who refuses to take me seriously."

"So, Ms. Chase. You say you were adopted?"

"Not exactly. I was in various foster homes. Never had a permanent family."

"Well, I was adopted. Do you think we could be related?"

Amelia Chase snorted. "Yeah, we're so much alike. Listen, you're a nice person and all, and I'm happy to help you, but let's be honest. I don't want to know you, and I doubt you want to know me. Listen, I have a lunch date with two of my friends. You probably know one of them. Pamela Adler?"

"Yeah, I met her once. A bit of a snot, really. Then again, I'm pre-disposed to dislike defense attorneys. She doesn't really have much of a personality, though - I've met a lot of lawyers whom I don't like, but who are sort of lovable in a way. She's just an ice queen, from what I can tell. Maybe I saw her on a bad day?"

"No, you saw what she's normally like. She's a spoiled little rich brat. No one ever said 'no' to her in her life. Thinks she's the hottest thing on two legs. Wonder how she'd react if anyone ever did say 'no.' But, she went to college with Syd, and she seems to adore her, so I put up with the bitch."

"You mean Syd Lehman? From the office?"

"Yeah, her. She's marrying some starving artist. We're trying to talk her back to her senses. Listen, don't call me, I'll call you." She walked off, motioning as if her hand were a phone.

The Present-------

"That's the last time I met her in person until yesterday." Casey sighed.

"So how did you get the DNA test?" asked Olivia.

"Through correspondence. Apparently no one else would write to her, so she decided she would get to know me a little after all. It beat marking time in her cell."

"I wonder how she can survive in prison." Olivia shuddered. No men around - I'd hate to be her cell-mate. I can imagine what she might do."

Casey shrugged. "Apparently her hatred of men didn't prevent her from making friends among her clients. She made so much money in currency trading with a Klaus Cologne, that he apparently made certain that someone is available for her every conjugal visit day. A/N I'm not sure that people in prison for sex crimes are allowed conjugal visits, but let's pretend they are"

"He hired someone?"

"Well, apparently she has a pen pal, but he never writes her back. She claims he's her boyfriend, but she hinted to me in a letter that he was hired by Klaus."

"Ah."

"Well, listen, I've got to go. Talk to you later." Casey waved as she left.

Olivia went back to her desk, and pulled out some paperwork.

"Hi, Liv," Elliot walked over to her desk.

"Hi, Elliot. What's going on?"

"Yesterday I did a little of that checking up you asked me to do."

"Yeah?"

"And guess what."

"What?"

"I found Peter Smith. And you'll never what happened to him since the Chase-Adler case."

"What?"

"He's married."

"Um... I'm not certain why I would find that difficult to believe. People do get married after all. Rape victims, too."

"Well, yes, they do. He married one. You'll never guess who."

"Who?"

"Harper Anderson."

"The one who we think shot the "Is this how you like it" rapist? _That_ Harper Anderson?" Olivia's eyes went wide. "Good grief. How did that happen?"

"Don't know. I didn't get a life story. I just found out a few basic facts about them and left it at that."

"My, my, isn't that something."

Meanwhile, at a room in another precinct...

"So, you want me to what?"

"Her testimony got my daughter convicted of murder. I want you to make certain she gets taken care of." The old lawyer narrowed his eyes. "You are the go-to gal in the prison, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am."

"I think that I can get your sentence overturned. I will get you the best defense money can buy. All you need to do is to give me my revenge."

"Of course, Mr. Adler."

"Pamela was going to inherit everything after I died. That was all spoiled because some self-strangling pervert wanted to get a lighter sentence, and before her, some idiot narcotics addict grew a conscience. She took care of the addict. And now you will take care of the pervert."

"Yes, Mr. Adler. And you can get me off on the murder charge?"

"I guarantee it, Ms. Lewis. I guarantee it."

A/N Mr. Adler is an original character; Pam Adler's father. Ms. Lewis is made up from whole cloth.


	5. Conversations and Memories

**Chapter 5**

Disclaimer: All characters owned by Dick Wolf and NBC, excepting original characters, but I don't care to own them. No money was made by me on this work.

A/N This story is taking place sometime in season six, just prior to the episode where Casey gets beat up.

Casey relaxed in her apartment. Another day, another rapist behind bars, another dollar. She began to think about her financial situation. Her college loans were all paid off and she had just started a CD in addition to her savings and checking accounts. Living in the city where she didn't need a car had its advantages and disadvantages.

She thought about her family. Her father had fallen ill in Vietnam and had returned unable to have children. He had not become a eunuch, however, just sterile, and soon after his return to civilian life, he married his fiancee and not long after that, he and his wife had adopted Casey.

She hadn't thought much about her birth parents. She supposed she would like to have a medical history to see if they had any hereditary diseases, and would not object to meeting them if either one ever tried to contact her. But in reality, she would just as soon not think much about them. Not because she hated or resented them, but just because she didn't want to spend a lot of time wondering about people she would likely as not never meet. She figured that there was too great a chance that finding them would lead to hurt feelings, and so she was content to let the issue go.

However, meeting Amelia Chase had shaken her. She supposed that had she found out about having a twin sister before she had met Ms. Chase, she wouldn't have bothered to try to track her down. But knowing that Ms. Chase existed but being uncertain of their biological relationship, if any - well, that was a horse of a different color. She supposed that if she ever saw someone she thought was one of her birth parents, she would become a lot more concerned with finding out whether or not hey were. It was easy to let go of someone you never knew. But wondering whether someone you did know had a relationship - again, horses and colors seemed to come into play.

Casey sipped some hot tea as she sat on her chair and began watching television.

Back at the precinct:

"So, what you want to bet that Cragen is gay or bisexual and is getting it on with Huang?" asked one of the various people in the office to Olivia.

"No, I never saw any evidence of that. Why the Hell is that any of your business, anyway?"

"Well, we're starting a betting pool."

Olivia walked away as quickly as she could.

She found Elliot at his desk. "So, what are we investigating tomorrow?"

Elliot shook his head. "Let's see. The Guffman rape case, the McKenny molestation case, the Farmer rape case. We also have about a dozen solved cases to do paperwork on. Nothing that needs to be moved up to today. I think I can call in on time tonight for a change."

"Great!" Olivia was tired of working three and four hours past her shift. "I think I'll see Casey, see how she is doing."

"Damn."

"What is it?"

"Just saw it on the internet. First grand jury for Sebastian Ballentine will be called tomorrow. There are reports that he may need to be moved to a different facility to protect him from other inmates during the trial."

"I thought he was already separated."

"Yeah, but people can always get you if you're in prison with them. They'll find a way. Too bad they don't just release the SOB into the genera prison population."

Olivia nodded. She hated to admit it, but the thought had occurred to her.

A little later, Casey hear a knocking at her door. "Can I come in?" It was Olivia.

"Sure. Just give me a second." Casey put on her slippers and trudged to the door in her long, flowing bathrobe. She opened the door and let Olivia in. "What's in the bag?"

"Chinese food. I've got enough for two. Figures you'd like a break after a hard day of work."

"I haven't talked to her again. Not since the first time I went to the prison. So don't think you can grill me for more information."

"No, Casey, I just thought you might sympathize with me on my... family situation, and that maybe we could build a friendship on that. You don't know how difficult it has been with Jeffries, and then Cabot, leaving. I'm the only female detective left on the squad, and to be honest, sometimes it gets a little lonely there among all that sea of testosterone."

"Hmm..." Casey had occasionally been in situations where everyone else was male. "I guess I understand. Come in. If you'd like, we can watch... well, whatever's on TV. Or, I could get something out of my collection of porno tapes."

"Huh? Wh- what?" Olivia was floored.

"I'm kidding, Liv. Chill out."

They wound up watching i Sense and Sensibility /i .

"Liv?" asked Casey when it was all over. "You said that at times you fantsized about killing people who'd wronged you. What were you thinking about?"

Years ago------

"Hi, Jonathan."

"Hi, Liv." She was in college, talking to her boyfriend.

"So good news. My period came today. So it turns out I'm not pregnant after all."

"Listen, Liv, that's what I needed to talk to you about. You forgot to take a pill. I... I can't deal with that. I'm afraid I don't know where this is going."

"Don't blame me! You're the one who was too cheap to buy a new condom. I can't believe that you used one that had been in your wallet for three years. You should have told me how old it was. I would've paid for it."

"Listen, Liv, I was being nice, but let's be honest. Worrying about birth control is the woman's job. If men got pregnant, then we would be the ones nature intended to think about such things. If you hadn't forgotten to take your pill, the condom wouldn't have mattered. I'm trying to say that I can't deal with your irresponsibility anymore."

Olivia looked at Jonathan, floored. "What are you saying? I'm the one who bailed you out of jail!"

"I'm saying that I am leaving you." He got up and walked out of the room.

Olivia rushed after him, catching him at the top of the stairs of the dorm.

"Wait. Wait. You can't - you can't do this -"

"Sorry, Liv."

Olivia reached out for a second, then stopped suddenly and ran back to her room.

Present------

"His name was Jonathan Arden. I nearly pushed him down the stairs. I would have, too, but I was afraid of getting caught. If I thought I could've gotten away with it, I'd have killed him."

Casey looked at Olivia. "We all think like that, at times. What matters is not why you didn't, but that you didn't. If we thought we wouldn't get caught, most of us would have probably killed someone at some time or other. If that weren't a human tendency, we wouldn't be so scared of giving people dictatorial powers."

Olivia nodded. "I suppose. But I always wonder if that was my father. If he was somewhere inside me telling me to kill the bastard. Throw him down the stairs."

Casey sighed. "What do you want me to say, Benson? Perhaps it was the part of your father that is in you. Who knows? But in the end, you stopped him. For whatever reason, you stopped him. You are a better person than he was."

"Maybe. Or maybe I just got lucky." She remembered a similar conversation she had had with George Huang.

"Or maybe you don't give yourself enough credit." Casey sipped her tea. "Liv, I don't know how to say this, but - I have plans for tomorrow and it's getting late..."

"Oh, okay. I still have to do an errand or two before I go home anyway. G'night."

"Good night."

Meanwhile, in the prison...

"Okay, Clara. You understand? Tomorrow we make our move."

"Yes, Ms. Lewis."

"In return, I'll make certain you get unfettered access to coke A/N if I'm not being clear, she's not talking about Coca-Cola here for the next two months. For free."

"Why do you want her dead?"

"Let's just say that it's business."

Ms. Lewis was forty, but she already looked like she was sixty. Among the white inmates, she was sort of like the boss. The black inmates and the Hispanic ones tended to have their own bosses, which suited her just fine. Racial tension and hatred in the prison was always useful as a way to force everyone to pick sides. This "us-against-them" mentality helped to empower those such as herself, who could promise protection to those prisoners who were too weak or frightened to defend themselves. Addictions were also helpful.

Clara nodded. "Okay." She was in her twenties and blonde. She had the hollowed-out expression of a junky. "I'll do anything. Just make certain I get my fix!"

"Of course."

Ms. Lewis smiled. She was getting out.


	6. Prison and Daughters

**Chapter 6**

Disclaimer: All characters owned by Dick Wolf and NBC, excepting original characters, but I don't care to own them. No money was made by me on this work.

"What do you want me to say?" asked Amelia to the psychiatrist. "I'm sorry? I feel very bad that I gave poor Mr. Smith an orgasm?"

"How about that you killed your friend? The fact that someone is now dead because of you. Doesn't it bother you at all that Sydney Green trusted you to let you into her house and you killed her? I mean, didn't you betray a trust?"

"She betrayed _my_ trust. She was going to rat me out to Mr. Smith."

"And _you_ betrayed Pamela Adler."

"_I_ was facing prison, not some ridiculous, no-chance-of-winning lawsuit."

"Hmmm-mmmm."

This meeting had disturbed Ms. Chase more than she had let on. She felt so - _alone_. She really didn't have any friends, and that bothered her, as much as she would like to believe otherwise. She sighed.

It was exercise time. She was in the yard, playing softball with some of the other female inmates. She liked the interaction, as much as she wanted to pretend otherwise, and even though she didn't have any real friends in jail.

She was the catcher. It amused her that her sister had played softball with the police and other district attorneys, and now she was playing it in prison.

Now a strung-out blonde was at bat. Clara something-or-other, Amelia thought. What a loser. Then Amelia saw the bat swinging at her. She put her right arm up and felt a burst of pain as the bat connected. She ducked and kicked at Clara's legs, knocking her over, and then scrambled to her feet, propping herself up with her left arm and running away.

The warden ran over and tasered Clara, who fell to the ground, limp.

"What the Hell?" thought Amelia.

Meanwhile...

Elliot Stabler had the day off and was talking to his daughter Maureen, who was visiting him from college.

"So, how are you doing?"

"Well, most of my classes are going well, but I broke up with Jack."

"Really, why? I thought he seemed nice."

"Because, he was so - unaffectionate. He didn't like to kiss me, or hold me, or anything. He just liked to show me off to his friends. He seemed to think I was some sort of trophy or something."

"Mmm-hmmmm. You know, not everyone is - physically affectionate. I like that in a boy."

"Oh, Daddy! Come on. I mean, at the party this weekend, he was acting so smug with his friends, and then I decided to go for it and kiss him, and wouldn't you know it, he says 'No, not right now.' I mean, how can he say that? What, am I too ugly to kiss?"

"Maureen, what did you do next?" asked Elliot.

"I left, of course. And yes, I had a friend with me so I would be..."

"No, no, I mean, you didn't keep trying to kiss him, did you?"

"What? No, of course not! Why do you ask?"

"Maureen, remember how I used to tell you how most boys are only after one thing and that you have to learn to protect yourself? You have to say no, and realize-"

"-that he has to listen to me, I know."

"You know, don't you, that that works both ways?"

"What?"

"I mean, don't ever assume that just because he's a guy all he wants is sex, don't assume that he wants to have sex; ask him first, you know this, don't you?"

"Daddy, you're scaring me, what's this about?"

"You remember the Chase and Adler rape case?"

"Yeah, everyone does. It made the headlines - oh my God, you're worried that I'll rape someone?" Maureen started to laugh. Her father had always been so protective, it struck her as ridiculous that he would suddenly worry about protecting someone _from_ her. "Why do you ask?"

"You know our ADA? Casey Novak?"

"I've seen her once or twice."

"Well, she's the identical twin sister of Amelia Chase. I have been thinking about that case ever since I found out. I just don't want you to ever do anything that will land you in prison, honey."

"Daddy, don't worry. I only have sex with guys who ask me to."

"Oh, then... wait a second..."

Maureen smirked. "Oh, Daddy."

Later that day...

"Listen," asked the investigator, "are you sure that she intended to hit you with the bat?"

"Positive. It wasn't a mistake."

"Why would someone want to kill you?"

"I'm not a very popular person, I suppose. I can't think of anyone who has a particular reason to want to kill me, though." Amelia suddenly had a thought. "Pam Adler might not like the fact I ratted her out. I suppose that she might be trying to do what we did to Sydney Green."

"Hmm..." The investigator considered that. Richard Adler _had_ visited Laura Lewis the previous day. She was known to be the "boss," so-to-speak, of the white prisoners in the prison. If a white prisoner were to be talked into doing a hit on someone, Ms. Lewis would be the person who would know about it.

"You know," he said, "if that is true, we may need to move you away from this prison, to another."

Meanwhile...

"Daddy, why are you so upset?" asked Maureen.

Elliot sighed. "I guess, I just never thought about whether or not I'd need to worry about a woman attacking my son, or worry about whether or not I need to teach my daughter to make certain that _she_ has consent. The Chase/Adler case, that girl who molested her sister and had her killed, the principal with the brain tumor - it's all a little too much for me. I tend to think about protecting women so much, or about protecting men from other men - I mean, don't get me wrong I've seen violent women. But the idea of a woman using sex as violence - it still, I don't know..."

"Wow, this must really be getting to you. You never talk about work like this."

"I shouldn't be now, I'm sorry."

"Daddy, I like to know a little about what you do. Maybe - maybe if you'd be willing to have let a little more out, Mom... never mind."

"What? Maybe your mother wouldn't have left me? Damn it, Maureen, I... I..."

"Forget it, Dad. Forget I said anything."

Elliot sighed and put his head in his hands.


	7. Victims and Perps

**Chapter 7**

Disclaimer: All characters owned by Dick Wolf and NBC. No money was made by me on this work.

"Hello?" Harper Anderson-Smith came to the door. "What do _you _want?"

The detective sighed. "Listen, are you married to a Mr. Peter Smith?" he asked.

"Why does it matter?"

"You have earned a bit of a... reputation for dealing with rapists."

"Well, I managed to shadow the guy who raped me if that's what you mean. It's not my fault he attacked his wife and she shot him dead, is it?"

"Well, we're just looking at all of the angles here. A rapist you might have a beef against was recently attacked."

"I only had a beef with one rapist. And he's dead."

"Well, then a rapist your _husband_ might have a beef with."

"Who are we talking about?"

"Amelia Chase."

"She's in prison. Where she belongs. So's Ms. Adler. Why would I need to attack them? How would I attack them? Oh, maybe you want to accuse me of the murder of Sydney Green?"

"She was attacked by another inmate. We think someone else planned it. We're just covering all of the angles."

"Well, I haven't been near the prison. So look somewhere else!"

"Can we talk to your husband?"

"Peter? Can you come out here a second? Someone attacked Bitch Number Two!"

"What?" Peter had been watching a TV show in the living room. He walked to the door. "What happened?"

"Bitch Number Two was attacked in prison," stated Harper.

"Ms. Chase? By whom?"

"By someone in the prison. We're looking at anyone who might have had a reason to hire someone to knock her off."

"I'd try Bitch Number One," stated Harper.

"She means Pam Adler," explained Peter. Harper moved toward him and hugged him protectively.

The detective looked at the couple. "Well, we're trying every angle."

"Well, I haven't worried about her since the rape," explained Peter. "And I'm sure that my wife hasn't given it any thought. Right Harper?"

Harper shook her head. "I thank God every day that she's in prison. And I'm not going to do anything to get her out, including getting her out in a pine box."

The detective nodded. "Okay," he said, and left.

Meanwhile...

Elliot was in the office when he heard the news on the phone.

"What? She was? Thanks for the heads up."

"What was that?" asked Olivia.

"It was a friend of mine at corrections. Apparently, Amelia Chase was attacked in prison."

"Attacked? How?"

"Well, the inmates were playing softball and someone attacked her with a bat. She broke an arm, but is otherwise okay."

"Wow, I'll have to tell Casey when I see her."

"Yeah. Sort of strange, isn't it, that this happens right after we discover she's related to Casey."

"I guess it never rains but it pours, Elliot."

"I guess so. Oh, another interesting factoid; they are moving her using the same transport that they are using to move Sebastian Ballentine. They are both being moved across the state, and budget cuts made them decide to double up."

"He was a creep, wasn't he?"

"Yeah. Raped and murdered virgins. Used his litle talent for face reading to play psychic and to torment his victims' families by telling them about the crime. A manipulative little snot. But you know what gets to me, Liv?"

"What, Ell?"

"We couldn't shake him. He got upset at his 'wife,' if you could call her that, but when we confronted him he would just smile that little smile of his and not let us shake him at all. He enjoyed the whole thing. How can you get to a creep like that?"

"I don't know, Elliot. I hate them when they are unshakeable as well. Remember that pseudo-messiah character? We couldn't get to him, either. Of course, the little girl he got pregnant shot him."

"Yeah, well. I don't like to think about that case. I got taken off active duty and put behind a desk, remember."

"Yeah. Oh, do you know what I heard about Ballentine? Anytime a guard gets near him, they put on a mask so he can't see their face. Limited talking, as well. Apparently, he would creep out the guards too much by asking them about their personal life."

"Wow. I wonder how you _get to_ a creep like that."

"I don't know. I don't know."

Elliot slammed his fist against the desk. "You know, occasionally, just occasionally, I'd like to see a case where everyone isn't scarred. We don't prevent these crimes, we just avenge them. And the rapists just keep coming."

"Well, I'm sure we've stopped some rapes. Caught some people and prevented them from raping ever again."

"Yeah," said Elliot. "I suppose so."

Meanwhile...

Richard Adler was talking to his daughter in her prison.

"So, you hear about what happened to Ms. Chase?"

"Yes, Dad."

"Too bad, isn't it. After all, she was _so_ nice. I guess we're just lucky she wasn't killed."

Pam Adler harrumphed. "Oh well, there's always tomorrow."

"Yes, there is. Listen, why didn't you let me help you when you were on trial?"

"Dad, I have to stand on my own two feet. Besides, a female attorney looked better for the case. Kept the feminists on my side. You always taught me it's all about politics."

"Yeah. It still bothers me. You could've asked for help."

"You defended yourself when you were charged with... similar indiscretions. And you got off. If you can do it, so could I, I thought. Except you didn't make the mistake of choosing your friends poorly - or choosing friends who chose friends poorly. You know, maybe I should've asphyxiated Ms. Chase as well - I can see it now - Sydney Green, nee Sydney Lehman, and Amelia Chase - Lesbian lovers' suicide pact. Leave 'em both hanging by a rope and in their lingerie, no one to finger me in either crime."

"Like father, like daughter. Listen. I don't care what anyone says. I'm proud that you had the initiative to protect yourself. To take out the person who would've fingered you. What people don't understand is that certain people have - privileges that don't apply to the rest of society. We Adlers are a breed apart. If we have some fun, that's our right. And we don't need to turn it into some gender-political statement like that strangling pervert of a stockbroker. You saw what you wanted from Mr. Smith, and you took it. I'm proud of you. People don't understand that those who refuse to take get taken." Richard Adler smiled with a perverse pride at his daughter. So much like a female version of him. So much. Right down to the belief that she had the right to impose herself on anyone else, in any way that she desired. Her aggressive attitude had served her well as an attorney. Unfortunately, it also had gotten her into several sticky situations in her personal life, including the rape of Peter Smith that had led to the murder of Sydney Green and thus her incarceration.

As he walked out, he got on his cell phone. "Billy? Listen. Interstate 90, tomorrow. I have sent you the description of the vehicle. It will be passing through Stafford at 9:30 pm. Now, you know what I want done. Do it!"

A/N If it hasn't been made clear by now, I have assigned "Lehman" to be Sydney Green's maiden name. I noticed in the episode "Ridicule, she was always referred to as "Sydney Green," and her husband's last name was "Green," suggesting that she either married someone with the same last name as her, or that she had changed her name upon marriage.


	8. Vengeance Dentata

**Chapter 8**

Disclaimer: All characters owned by Dick Wolf and NBC. No money was made by me on this work.

Amelia Chase was quiet during the trip. She looked across the aisle at the little creep staring at her.

"Good grief," she whispered to herself. "This is the monster Sebastian Ballentine? He looks like - like that little twerp in that movie _Innerspace_.

"Excuse me?" he asked. "Did you say something?"

"No." She heard that he could read facial expressions, and tried to keep her face as impassive as possible.

"Yes. And it was - about me, wasn't it? Yes, yes, I can see."

"Quiet!" barked the guard. He had a mask on - it looked sort of strange - it was basically a big plastic shield with a smile painted on, and had two holes for the eyes to see out of. Amelia had heard that all of the guards who were in contact with Mr. Ballentine had to wear them in order to avoid his "psychic abilities." Facial recognition, or some such thing, she had heard. Of course, they didn't give her one. She was a pervert and a rapist. What did they care if he creeped her out? She deserved it, or so everyone who had put her on this transport had thought.

"Oh?" Sebastian broke into a smile. "Do you want to gag me? Is that what you would like? To make me unable to talk?"

"You know," interjected Ms. Chase. "It's creeps like you that made me what I am. Maybe," she turned to the guard, "maybe you could let me out of my handcuffs and give me that mask, and leave me alone with him for a few minutes. I hear he doesn't like non-virgins. Well, you know I'm not a virgin, and you know that what he doesn't want wouldn't stop me."

The guard chuckled at that. "Quiet, both of you!" he laughed. He had been in this business long enough, and was un-empathetic enough, that he had absorbed the idea that letting some prisoners rape others was justified punishment for certain crimes. As far as he was concerned, Amelia Chase could be locked in a room with Sebastian Ballentine for as long as she liked, as long as he was chained and she wasn't. He had heard of the man's crimes, and was not averse to seeing him suffer. At the same time, he didn't see Chase as being particularly dangerous. She _was_ a woman, after all. Yes, it was wrong of her to kill her "friend," but who really thought it was that big a deal if she had had sex with a male stripper? She was cute, who wouldn't have wanted to be ravished by her?

These thoughts were going through his head when suddenly there was a huge cracking noise. The transport rocked, and then came back into balance. There was another crack.

"Oh my God!" came a voice from the front of the transport. "That truck! It's trying to change lanes - right into us!" The driver honked the horn. "For God's sake, we're here!" He honked it again. "Damn tired truckers." Then "Oh my God! He's-" another crack. "Oh my God, he's - this isn't an accident! He's trying to run us off the road!" Suddenly the transport flipped, and everything went black for Amelia.

A little later...

"What?" screeched Casey Novak. "What?"

"We are notifying you. She has assigned you as her next of kin, so we are notifying you that Amelia Chase is officially missing. She didn't get into the facility in Buffalo tonight. We're not sure what happened, but the transport disappeared. No one has yet been found."

Meanwhile...

Amelia Chase came to slowly. "Wha... what happened? Owwww..."

She looked around. The guard was next to her, sprawled out and - well, not moving. She managed to reach into his pocket with her left hand and find a key to her cuffs, which she undid. Her right arm was in agony, having been smashed, and the cast was cracked, but that didn't matter now. She was surprised to find that she didn't seem to be broken anywhere else. She felt for the guard's pulse. None. He was dead. She looked over at Mr. Ballentine. He was out cold. The transport was rightside-up, so she undid his and her seat belts and then decided to find out whether or not she could open the door in back. One kick did it, it had apparently been broken when they had been run off the highway. It had felt as if the transport had rolled downhill a little.

She managed to get outside, and then grabbed Sebastian Ballentine and dragged him out of the transport. He was alive, but unconscious. His arms and legs did not appear to be broken, unfortunately, although he had a large bruise on his forehead. Thinking again, Amelia grabbed the mask from the dead guard.

After dragging Sebastian a little farther into the woods, she set up camp. It was summer, so there was no need for a fire, and a few flashlights from the truck served for light.

She had also stolen a watch from the guard. 2:30 am. She clapped the handcuffs on Mr. Ballentine's ankles and then waited for him to wake up.

At around 3 am, he did.

"Hello, Mr. Ballentine," she said to him. "I hear you like virgins, and you like reading facial expressions. Well, I can assure you, I am as far from being a virgin as a human being can be; I know all the tricks that can force you to be able to perform, and I have a mask which hides all of my expressions from you. I figure that they will find me in a few hours. So that means we have a few hours for some fun.

"You - you can't be serious," stammered Ballentine.

Amelia looked at him. "Oh, but I can. What is that I see on your face, Mr. Ballentine? It seems like fear. And hatred. Let's see if I am a psychic, too. What are you thinking - you are thinking that you are going to die. But you are also thinking that we will a little fun first, and I will, Mr. Ballentine, and you are right. We will. Did anyone ever tell you that you look like that actor from _Captain Ron_?"

"Did anyone ever tell you that you look like the Assistant District Attorney for sex crimes."

"She's my sister. Kicker, isn't it? Too bad you can only imagine what I am feeling now. I assure you that because of this mask you are missing some truly remarkable expressions."

"Come on. Come on. You're not really going to..."

"Well, looky here, your arms have been moved in front of you rather than in back - but the handcuffs are still there. I guess there is one way you can try to stop me."

Sebastian looked at his arms. They were indeed in front of him, but they had been badly beaten so that using them would be difficult. The handcuffs had some fabric from Ballentine's prison uniform's sleeves all tied around them. "What is that?"

"Strangle me."


	9. Resolution

**Chapter 9**

Disclaimer: All characters owned by Dick Wolf and NBC. No money was made by me on this work.

Casey Novak was in bed when she got the call.

"What is it?" she asked sleepily into the phone.

Suddenly she got up. "They found her? Is she all right? She is? Good. On the news? Okay."

Casey went over to the TV and turned on the news. "The missing transport carrying convicted rapist Amelia Chase and accused rapist and murderer Sebastian Ballentine has been found. The driver and Ms. Chase are okay, and are in the hospital. The guard escorting them was killed in the accident. Mr. Ballentine was found dead a few hundred feet from the site of the accident. The circumstances of his death are not yet public."

"Oh, my..."

Later...

"So," asked Olivia at the office, "how are you doing, Casey?"

"Pretty good, all things considered. So, I think we can make a deal in the McAllister case."

"Great."

"Yeah, well. I'm glad I am finally getting some respect, and people are finally able to start looking at me as the ADA, rather than as 'that witch that replaced Our Blessed Lady of Law, Alex."

"So, how are you doing, though, with all this surrounding your sister?"

"Well, I checked around a little. She is okay."

"Yeah, I got that from the news. Anything else."

"Well, I know that the guard was killed in the crash. Chase claims that Ballentine took her out of the transport and raped her. He then fell asleep, and she managed to kill him."

"Impossible. Ballentine only victimizes virgins. Amelia Chase isn't a virgin; hell, that's what she's in prison for."

"She claims that his mind must have been affected by the crash."

"And you believe her?"

"No. But it occurred outside of my jurisdiction. I have a feeling that no one is going to investigate, because no one cares. Ballentine was scum, and no one cares how he died."

"So what do you think happened?"

"I think that Amelia probably raped him. From what I know of her, she _hates_ men, she was abused when she was younger, and abusive men particularly set her off. She probably knows about the Ballentine case - everybody does. She must know how he only likes virgins - and probably figured she'd torture him in the only way possible - make him have sex with a non-virgin."

"Wow. Wonder what her facial expressions would have done to him."

"There was a mask nearby - one of the ones that were used to prevent Ballentine from getting into the heads of the guards. She could have put it on."

"So you think?"

"Yeah. But there's nothing I can do, and I doubt that anyone will pursue this very far. So I'm just going to not worry about it."

"Wow."

Later...

Elliot was talking to Maureen over the phone.

"So, Honey. What's going on?"

"Well, Daddy, I have a crush on this _really_ cute guy - I don't think he notices me at all though. I'm wondering if I should slip him some roofies -"

"Maureen!"

She started giggling. "Sorry, Daddy. I couldn't resist saying that."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sorry. I just want to protect you, Maureen. I don't want to see you in trouble. I was always so scared of you being hurt - now I'm scared about - what if you get in trouble for something you do. I - I love you, and I want to see you happy."

"I know, Daddy."

Meanwhile...

Olivia was leaving the office. Casey had come to talk to her, and they were going to have a drink together. She heard some people gossiping and snickering by the water cooler. "Hey, Liv!" hollered one of them, a 40-something white man. She walked over to him. Casey followed a few steps behind.

"Drinkin' with Casey?"

"Yes, we're having a drink together."

"So, are you - doing anything else?"

Casey walked over and stared in the man's eyes. "We are _not_ having an affair. I'm not even Lesbian, nor do I have any interest in experimenting."

"Same here," said Olivia.

"Damn!" exclaimed the guy at the water cooler. I guess I lose that $20.00 I have in the pool."

Meanwhile...

Richard Adler went to answer the knock on his door. He opened it to see a tall man with a rather bland look on his face and a small woman with brown hair. "What do you want?"

"Hi, I'm Detective Goren and this is Detective Eames. We are investigating an attack on a prison transport. I'm sure you've heard of it on the news."

A month later...

"Well," said the doctor at the prison. "Bad news, Ms. Chase. You are right."

Amelia Chase smiled. "Really?"

"Yes, I'm afriad that when Mr. Ballentine raped you, he left a reminder. That's why you threw up this morning. You're pregnant."

"I'm keeping it."

"You are?"

"Well, I won't keep it in here after I have it, but I am not giving it away for adoption nor am I aborting it. I have a sister who I am certain will take care of my child after it is born."

THE END


End file.
